Hummingbirds
by pseudocitrus
Summary: Belatedly, Korra realizes that the drumming that's been in her ears since they entered the Spirit World can't possibly be the beat of the dance music they left behind in Republic City.


notes:

+ shameless post-series korrasami ficlet 4 my kbgn reezistance -heart- with spirit world stuff & (some) hummingbirds as asked~

+ not super familiar with LoK canon so please forgive errors~

* * *

><p><strong>Hummingbirds<strong>

_"Just the two of us! Anywhere you want!"_

_"Really? …okay."_

:::

Republic City is still rebuilding. Figuring out _how_ to rebuild. There are so many things to fix, and so many things to make anew, and she can't count the number of meetings she's been in regarding what should be done about the Spirit Portal now beaming up from the foundations.

Finally Korra had admitted, calmly, that she needed to think about it.

"I mean," she'd said, trying to rein in her exasperation, "we _just_ finished wrapping up a war. The Spirit Portal isn't gonna hurt anybody. There's plenty of other stuff to fix up, can't we focus on _that_ first?"

Everyone seemed skeptical, and eventually she'd mentioned the wedding and they'd just let her go. But not without one last "You _will_ figure this out" flung out after her.

She would have had trouble enjoying the mingling and dancing in the first place, but _that _line (the syllables rattling like a chain in her head) makes it pretty much impossible.

Problems just never end for the Avatar.

It's fine, it's fine, really. It's — it's just — how is she supposed to solve this one? She wracks her brain into a pulp. She's stressed, she needs to do something, she needs to figure this out.

But when Asami brings up the idea of a vacation, taking a break seems so — _possible_.

Hey, the last thing anyone wants to see is a stressed-out Avatar, right?

A little breather could be good.

The Spirit Portal looms, and the light from it pulses in time with Korra's heart as they approach. Around them, creatures draw close and scatter, luminescent, the flap and trod of their presence silent alongside the echoing _thack_ of their boots.

She's been here enough that the light should be familiar, but for some reason now the glow of it — the weird, buzzy, not-warmth of its light on her cheeks — brings her pause. She isn't sure then if she reaches out first, or if Asami does. But as their fingers intertwine, the hesitation dissolves from Korra's chest.

They turn to each other. Korra's smile bubbles up, thoughtlessly, and broadens when Asami smiles back with the perfect scarlet curve of her mouth.

The light rises, and they do too.

:::

They stumble forward onto the field, its flowers swaying with a breeze neither of them can feel. By some fluke of excitement their hands slip apart, and as they walk forward through the Spirit World's mists and glitters it somehow feels…weird to try and take it back.

The Spirit World isn't particularly exciting stuff for her anymore, but Asami's totally taken with it. She keeps a few prances ahead of Korra, and her eyes widen whenever she spots something new floating or flittering past.

"What's that?" Asami gasps, staring at a creature with a goldfish head and a mossy apron.

"It's a spirit," Korra answers.

"And _that_ one?" Now Asami's pointing a violet, five-eared rabbit.

"Another spirit."

"What about _these_?" Asami asks, kneeling down by a pair of spiraling, fluffy mushrooms.

"Spirits!" Korra laughs. "They're _all_ spirits! There are spirits for all kinds of things, and they're all different. I bet there'll be special kinds for the ones near Republic City too, eventually."

"Really? But…how do they get _made_?" Her eyes have a familiar flash, and Korra rolls her own.

"It's not like they're manufactured or anything. It's more like…well, it's complicated. But in the Spirit World, your emotions become reality."

"Emotions, huh?" Asami looks around. "I wonder what emotions made up this."

They've passed out from that first field where Korra faced Kuvira, into a forest with slender trees tinted maroon by whatever passes for the Spirit World's setting sun. The ground is rough and covered in pale, feathery flowers that look a lot like dandelions, and as they walk, the flowers break apart, petals floating up like fine smoke.

"It doesn't seem too happy," Asami remarks.

"Yeah…not too much," Korra agrees dryly. Other than the spirit themselves, the Spirit World isn't making the greatest impression.

Asami sighs. "I'm sorry, Korra. This must not be much fun for you. We can go back, if you want."

"Wh-what? No! I'm having a great time."

"Really?"

"Really! I'm…I'm really happy you're here. Really."

Even if she's stressed, and nervous for some reason, and anxious too, somehow, about Asami's empty hand, balled up now in front of her.

Belatedly, Korra realizes that the drumming that's been in her ears since they entered the Spirit World can't possibly be the beat of the dance music they left behind in Republic City.

She swallows. Asami's knuckles are turning pale. So near, so far. She reaches forward —

_"Aah!"_

— and stumbles. Her boot catches on a stone or something beneath all the flowers, and Korra just barely manages to keep on her feet, arms wheeling in the floating petals.

"What happened?" Asami gasps, stepping forward, and Korra gives a strangled chuckle.

"Oh, nothing. Just be careful, the ground's —"

Before she finishes, Asami yelps mid-step, and trips too. Her arms flail, and her fall _poofs_ up a huge cloud of petals that totally engulfs them. Korra bursts into laughter, and Asami's cry of outrage soon fades into laughter too.

"Here," Korra says, extending her hand, and Asami clasps it. She pulls her up, easy, and when Asami is safely on her feet, brushing off her clothing, Korra doesn't let go.

Neither does Asami.

For a moment, there's silence.

And then Asami says, "I can tell something's wrong. Just be honest, Korra. I can take it."

Korra swallows. Well, here goes.

Her voice comes out in a murmur. "What do you think I should do?"

Asami's fingers shift.

"About…what?"

"About…" Korra sucks in a deep breath, expels it in a burst. "_Everything_."

Being the Avatar. Fixing Republic City, restoring its stability. Balancing out its desires and its needs, considering everything at a scale she can only hope to comprehend.

Asami's grip firms. Her smile is kind; she even laughs a little, pushes her hair behind her ear with her free hand. Somehow, she gets what Korra wants to say, even if she can't force the specifics out of her own mouth.

"Just work at it like you've always done. I've seen you do amazing things, Korra. There's no way you're at the end of your rope now. I mean — who could have ever figured you'd be able to get Kuvira to actually turn herself in?

"You'll figure this out," Asami continues, and when it's her that says it, not some ornery administrator, it doesn't sound like a threat. In Asami's voice, the phrase is full of trust — the kind that is so hard, sometimes, for Korra to have for herself. Or for the future stretching out ahead of her, with its endless knots and holes and shouting voices.

And just like that, Korra feels lighter.

And higher.

The drumming gets louder.

"Asami," she says, and her heart swells, with certainty.

She can do this. She needs to do something, she still needs to figure everything out, but with Asami, everything is so — _possible_.

Her Avatar's life is filled with so many lessons — things she needs to learn about, for herself, for everyone else. Suffering. Passion. Control of her own body, her own destiny, her own desires and needs. And there they are: bright, and shining, and sure.

She's been in Asami's company enough times that her presence should be familiar, but for some reason now the heat of it — the weird, buzzy, breathtaking clutch of it in her chest — brings her pause. She isn't sure then if she reaches out first, or if Asami does. But as their hands rest on each other's bodies, the hesitation dissolves from Korra's chest.

Korra's fingers tighten on Asami's face, and pulls it down, toward hers. Their lips meet, with exquisite ease, with a gasp of breath slicked away with a tongue and swallowed. They take a moment to exchange glances, eyes wide, then hooded, then shut. Korra feels Asami's hands circle and then grip her waist, just as Korra leans forward and up against her, and it's no surprise that in their uncoordination they tip and collapse onto the ground, both of them.

Korra's body is on hers, and she kisses Asami with fervor, again, again, propping herself back up again only to replenish the air in her lungs. It's the first time Korra sees her without lipstick; it's the first time Asami sees Korra _with _it. Their hair is disheveled and speckled with petals. They'd both taken care not to overpack for their venturing but suddenly their bags are way too heavy, their vests and coat and overskirt way too troublesome. And the ability to bend all the elements on earth isn't a match for the incredible power she feels now, just being together, and happy.

Their shrieks and laughs and conspicuous, long silences are lost in a riot of petals. And as Korra's pulse speeds, as she clutches Asami closer, the petals turn into emerald and cerise feathers, into wings, into little birds that fly high, and far, and anywhere they want, side by side.


End file.
